


Nocturnal Contact

by Tater_Tati



Series: #Kinktober2020 [11]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M, Hand Jobs, Henry's off-putting praises, Mutual Masturbation, Vaginal Fingering, Walking In On Someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tater_Tati/pseuds/Tater_Tati
Summary: Kinktober Day 11: Mutual MasturbationHenry’s been thinking of you, in more ways than one. While the Plegian Mage has always been a mystery to you, perhaps a late-night encounter will lead to some randy revelations…
Relationships: Henry (Fire Emblem)/Reader
Series: #Kinktober2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975348
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	Nocturnal Contact

It’s the dead of the night, and the entire camp is asleep, except for what it seems like you. While you normally wouldn’t be up this late, especially not when you have Frederick’s _militant_ practice drills early in the morning, sleep eludes you. Every time you close your eyes, they end up invariably snapping open again at the slightest sound, the errant thoughts that enters your head.

So instead, you take it upon yourself to read one of the tomes Henry lent you. While you’re aren’t certain that reading about forbidden spells that cause decapitations and incite mind control will _help_ you relax, you have to admit the illustrations accompanying them are somewhat amusing, as Henry gleefully attested to.

It seems he’s rubbing off on you.

You realize you’re not the only one who would be awake at this hour, actually; the Plegian Mage is up at seemingly all hours of the night, as you once caught him sneaking into the pantry for late-night blackberry pastries. That’s what you were after, as well, and he ended up lending you the tome after you mentioned your sleeping difficulties. So when the thought occurs to you, after finishing the last line of the tome, to return it to him, you don’t feel bad about the late hour.

Plus, the idea of getting to see him again sends a flutter through your chest. You have a slight… _crush_ on the eccentric dark mage, as strange as it seems to even you. He’s certainly not the type of boy you’d imagine yourself liking, with his… love of gore and penchant for pain, but he has a _strange_ way of lightening the mood around camp. His light conversations with you during your Risen excursions always uplifts your spirits, and slowly you’ve found your mind lingers on the image of his smiling visage.

Henry’s tent is slightly open, light pouring out from the gap; just as you expected, he’s awake. You take a step in, but before you can announce your presence, you’re surprised to hear him mumbling. 

“Oh, that’s _lovely_ …” His breath catches. “Yes, just like that.” He giggles. His back is to you, so you can’t make out what he’s doing, but you can only imagine…

Dear Naga, is he playing with _another_ detached Risen finger he managed to snag? You know Robin made him throw out the last one, after Tharja mentioned it was cursed, but… you wouldn’t put it past Henry to pocket another one from your last battle…

You freeze however, when he moans out what is unmistakably _your_ name. Oh. _Oh_. Maybe that’s not a Risen finger. The subtle movement back-and-forth motion of his arm makes more sense now…

Your palms feel damp, and you turn to leave when the tome slips through your fingers and falls to the ground with a resounding _thud_. You still like a Risen caught in his field of vision. Henry whirls around, and you get a look at his pale cock jutting out of his tights.

“Ah… (Y/N)?”

“I-I’m so— _sorry_ ,” you stammer, eyes darting is to the side.

Henry, to his credit, also seems to be a bit flustered. His face twists into a grimace. “Ah… you weren’t supposed to see that.”

“I—I just came to return the tome, and—” You lean down to pick up the tome, unbeknownst to you that the collar of your nightgown dips down enough to give Henry a nice glimpse of your cleavage. His gaze trails it hungrily.

He’s uncharacteristically quiet, and since things are already awkward…. “Were you…” Curse your curiosity. “Were you moaning out my name just now?”

“I—”

“S-Sorry,” you say quickly, “that’s an awful question to ask. I’ll just—”

“Yeah, I was.” Henry straightens, finally regaining some of his confidence. “I kind of… you know, I like you,” he says simply. “I think about you. A lot.”

“Oh.” Your voice is soft, even to your own ears. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah.” He smiles, but it’s a bit strained. Your gaze darts down to his cock, which is still out, and still hard. It seems Henry has foregone shame. Your curiosity gets the best of you again, and you voice your question before you lose your will. 

“Can I…. Can I watch?”

Henry’s eyes widen, and for the first time, you get to see them. Blood red, very much a color suiting him and his personality. His mouth parts before he can form words, but when he finally does, it’s with a peculiar inflection. 

“You want to watch me choke my chicken?”

“I—wait, please don’t describe it like _that_.” You flush.

He smiles wider. “Sure!” He beams, and pats the space next to him on the bed. You notice his cheeks are still a bit pink, but you make sure to close the tent flap behind you, before ambling over to him, and lowering yourself. This close, you can feel the heat of his body, see the flushed tip of his erection. Your eyes trail back up to see Henry’s watching you carefully.

“Can I start again?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

“S-Sure.”

While you’ve… read a few erotic tomes, out of curiosity, it’s not quite the same as the real thing. Henry forms a circle with his fingers and thumb, wraps it around his cock. It seems like he’s barely even touching himself, as he pumps the length of it, but it must feel good, since his voice comes out in breathy, high-pitched utterances. He regards you the entire time, and his pace picks up when you seem to get over your initial embarrassment and watch him closer.

Does it feel good for him, watching you watch him like this? Your face heats up as you get the sudden idea to become a more _active_ audience member.

“Can I….can I help… out?”

“Mm, _sure!_ ” He grasps your hand, with—you nearly choke—the same hand he was using to jerk off, before placing it on his dick. It’s warm, but firm, and twitches under your touch. You tug him once, then twice, in halting movements, before attempting a firmer grip. Henry breath hitches, especially as your palm slides up his length to circle the head.

“Ah…. it’s so nice when someone else is doing it for you,” he says, voice strained. His signature smile cracking so slightly as you continue slowly pumping him. “F-Faster, mm, please. _Mistress_.”

The term falls from his mouth so easily. “What did you just call me?”

“Well, in this situation, you do kind of— _ah_!” He gasps. “Have the power here.”

You’re so focused on making more of those sounds come from him, that you don’t notice Henry watching your own figure with his probing gaze until he speaks. “Hey…. can I touch you too?”

At your nod, Henry takes the opportunity to lift your nightgown over your head, momentarily halting your motions. He scans your figure appreciatively when all of you is bared to him, whistling appreciatively. It makes you flush. 

“You’re so _pretty,”_ he coos. “A lot prettier than my collection of dead body parts.”

“I—” You halt just as you’re about to reach for him again. “Di-Didn’t Robin tell you to get rid of those?”

“…Oops.”

He distracts you when his nimble finger reaches out to toy with your nipple, and you gasp. He finds amusement in your sounds, thumbing the nubs until they pebble under his touch.

They’re so cute. _You’re_ so cute. Do you even realize how cute you are? Henry wants to show you—he really does.

But as his eyes trail down, his interest is seized the dampness seeping through your panties. Henry’s fingers graze you, his eyes alight when he feels your wetness collect on his fingertips.

He strokes you through your panties, and apparently does something _right_ when you start mewling for him, grinding against his hand. He grins, pressing against you harder. Your grip around his cock tightens and he sighs pleasantly.

Henry’s long fingers delve into your panties, and begins stroking you there, and your eyes slip shut, moaning at his light touch. As he takes notice of how your face scrunches up adorably, he realizes that the two of you have gone all the way to touching each other’s private bits, but you haven’t even _kissed_ yet! How _hilarious._

He leans forward, pressing his lips to your forehead as he strokes you harder. You glance up, and then your lips are meeting, his mouth swallowing your moans greedily, as if it’s the only thing he’ll ever want to devour.

(Which he knows _isn’t_ true, considering how warm and sweet you feel against his fingertips—of course he could only want _more,_ after this—but he’ll leave that for another day.)

As he collects your liquid arousal on his fingertips, you thumb the pre-cum collecting on the tip of his cock. Your head burrows into the crook of his neck, and his chin props onto your head as he draws you closer. The two of you continue to stroke each other—a bit clumsily, a bit uncertainly, but with lots of _intention—_ and you cry out into his shoulder, your thighs trapping his hand between them as your walls contract against his fingers. Henry laugh is cut off by a sharp inhale, his own release spilling through the gaps in your fingers with a buck of his hips and shaky groan.

You press your lips to his jugular, feeling his erratic pulse through his gasps. Your hand relinquishes its hold, as Henry’s fingers slip out of you. 

He makes it a point to lick up your release from his fingers, humming at the taste, and your face warms, keenly aware of his own release drying on your hand as you rub it off on your nightgown. 

It’s quiet, uncertainty lingering in the air. It’s now or never, you figure, as you clear your throat.

“Henry?”

“Yes?” he says, as if he expects exactly what you’re going to say.

“I kind of… I kind of like you too.”

“Of course you do,” he says, pressing his lips against the crown of your head. “I mean—I’m _glad_!”

“Gosh,” he continues. “It’ll be so much fun when we get to share a tent and do this every day!” he cheers.

“Uh… isn’t that a bit _improper_?” Your voice rises with incredulity at the implications of his suggestion.

“Ya’ think?” He hums. “I guess we’ll just have to make things official then. Let me find a skull to fashion a ring…”

“Ah, please don’t…”

Strange as he may be, you wouldn’t have him any other way.


End file.
